


an age out of memory

by hedgerowhag



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drabble Collection, Gen, Multi, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, tags and rating will be updated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:01:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29803995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedgerowhag/pseuds/hedgerowhag
Summary: A collection of short snippets focusing on the botw ancient era from the calamity AU. Posted here purely for archiving purposes. Read the beginning note for context.
Relationships: Ganondorf/Link (Legend of Zelda), Link & Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 47





	1. First meeting

**Author's Note:**

> I would not recommend reading this collection if u have absolutely no idea what the calamity au is. I accidentally started an au which needed some details about the ancient era of botw and I ended up coming up with my own versions of link, Zelda, and Ganon. Tumblr got really invested in them and in turn I got invested and since the actual fic will not actually delve into the ancient era I thought I’d write some short snippets of whatever comes to mind and post them here 
> 
> If u are curious about this au please come to my tumblr (@ st-hedge) and look up the tag calamity au

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelda meeting Link for the first time. She would have been about 28 at the time and Link 24.

Zelda dragged the spoon through the pumpkin soup as she sighed into the palm of the hand propping her chin up. She was alone at the food stall; she had sent off her knights to rest soon after arriving at the Sheikah town. After travelling most of the day Zelda realised she was tired of company. 

The days were starting to blend together. The same fields and roads, the same bridges and rivers, the same towns and villages with no answers, only the mountains stood as markers of distance having passed. Zelda had hoped that if they didn’t find answers about their inevitable oncoming doom at least they would find someone to make better weapons and armour, but once again nothing.

Zelda dropped the spoon into the soup and crossed her legs on the stool as she started to fidget with the brass beads in her hair. The pots inside the stall’s kitchen were constantly filling and emptying, moving across the fire and turned for inspection as the seats were filled by people coming down from the fields to eat and conclude their day of work.

Zelda let go of the brass beads and watched a pair of young women approach the food stall with a donkey covered in packs in tow. Their clothes were scuffed with dust and dirt, their tan faces red at the cheeks from a day of work out in the fields. Their bowls were filled and they barely sat down before they started to eat.

What struck Zelda was the sickle hanging from the hip of one of the girls. The metal was rippled with different shades of grey like light on the surface of water. The curve was immaculate and the edge shined like glass. Zelda would have thought it was brand new if not for the cracked and peeling leather around the handle and the sun bleached red tassel at the end. 

Zelda, suddenly forgetting exhaustion, cleared her throat and said, “Excuse, I don’t want to bother you but I was wondering about your tool there—“

The Sheikah girl with the spoon halfway to her mouth looked up at Zelda. “Huh?” she asked with her mouth still open for the spoon. She looked down at the sickle. “This, you mean?” 

“Yes,” Zelda nodded eagerly. “Was it forged here?”

The girl dropped her spoon into the bowl as she turned to her companion and the girls giggled, more colour rising to their cheeks. “Yes—um, it was made by a blacksmith here,” the girl supplied.

“Oh?” Zelda leaned in. 

“He is a very good blacksmith,” the other girl added, mischief gleaming in her eyes.

“And a very handsome one too.” The girls broke out in a fit of giggles. 

Zelda smirked. She was getting curious. “Oh?” she prompted again.

“He doesn’t really like talking to people though, he would rather sit with the cuccos than have a conversation.”

Zelda didn’t see how that was a problem. “Does the blacksmith only make tools? Or does he also make weapons?”

The girls reignited with energy. “And armour! Such beautiful armour!” One of them exclaimed. “And those shining blue blades I had only seen brought by Hylians from Castle Town.”

Zelda suddenly wanted to show the fancy trinkets she had on her. She sometimes forgot that the gleaming blue blades of Sheikah tech were mostly only produced by the castle forges. Instead she asked, “Would you mind if I took a look at your sickle?”

The girl happily handed over the tool and Zelda briefly marvelled at her work roughened hands. She clearly knew how to use the blade. 

The strength of the steel was instantly felt and it rested in Zelda’s hand as well as her rapier. There was a whistle when Zelda drew it through the air. She was transfixed.

“Where can I find the blacksmith?” Zelda asked as she handed back the sickle.

“He works late so you could catch him at the forge,” the girl told her. 

“Could you show me the way?”

“No need, just follow the lanterns until you see the furnace.” The girl pointed to the trail of stone lanterns of blue fire leading from the sheltered fire pit at the centre of the town plaza decorated by red painted stone slats with engraved Sheikah eyes. 

Zelda thanked the girls for their help and paid for their food without them noticing before she left the stall. 

She rushed through the crowds of the Sheikah, eyes focused on the lanterns below the pine trees. The crowds started to thin the further she went, passing by homesteads branching out into vegetable patches, but still the lanterns went on.

Zelda grinned when she saw the furnace standing below red wooden slats hanging like garland from an archway. The furnace was like a root growing out from the black fertile soil, glowing with the power for forging vicious steel. 

There was barely anything outstanding about the workshop from the outside, the roof was thatched and the supporting columns of the walls were painted red, pots were standing around with various sprigs of green growth and small plates filled with crumbs of nuts and seeds where a finch was picking through the offerings before it noticed Zelda. The front door was open with a bell above it, she could hear a conversation inside. 

The interior of the workshop was lit by multicoloured glass lanterns and the hot coals of the forge. Zelda stood in awe as she looked at the partially formed blades decorating the walls, anything from tools like the sickle to scimitars and claymores. But what struck her were the unmistakable housing compartments of the Sheikah tech shields and the armour plates that were shoved aside on the counters without the glow of energy pulsing inside them. 

There was a clang of a hammer being set down and Zelda looked up at a middle aged Sheikah man with his back turned to her as he spoke to a blonde haired Hylian dressed in a leather apron over dirty clothes and long leather gloves. The shoulder length blonde hair was held back by a tie and a scarf wrapped around his head. There was a peek of a tattoo on his forehead from below the scarf. 

The Sheikah man said something and bowed to the blacksmith, making him awkwardly smile, before departing from the forge, never looking up at Zelda. 

Once the man was gone the blacksmith turned back to his tools and continued rearranging them, putting things away for the next dawn. 

“Are you the master of this forge?” Zelda called out, as she walked forward, making her footsteps loud and clear. 

The Hylian turned around with a frown which he instantly straightened when he saw Zelda and put on a polite smile. Now Zelda could say he was definitely handsome as the girls said, somewhat pretty even, and not only that he was very well built with broad stripes of deep blue tattoos peeking out from under one rolled up sleeve. He was a good deal shorter than Zelda, though.

“Yes,” the blacksmith said in a surprisingly gentle voice. “Can I help you?” 

Zelda tried not to grin again, she felt like she was reaching the peak of a hunt. “I had seen some girls with blades made by you and I was directed here,” she said. “I was told that you also make the renowned Sheikah tech weapons, is that so?”

The blacksmith slowly took off his gloves, as if to make a point that the day was closing. He nodded, but said nothing else, not even really looking at Zelda. Maybe it was the exhaustion, but the gesture struck her nerves. 

“Would it be possible for me to take a look at your work?” Zelda asked. 

With a laboured sigh, the blacksmith dropped his gloves onto a counter filled with files, tongs, and mallets in unfolded rolls that housed them. The blacksmith grabbed an inconspicuous object and gently tossed it across to Zelda. 

From the feeling of the object in her hand alone, Zelda recognised what it was and yanked her thumb on the trigger in the curve of the hilt which unfolded the crossguard that pulsed orange and released the glowing cyan blade. Zelda could no longer hold back her grin. 

Zelda turned to the blacksmith in the light of the blade and said, “I think before I say anything else we should introduce ourselves. I am Princess Zelda.” She held out her hand. 

The blacksmith looked down at her palm and swung out a pair of forging tongs, tapping her palm. He smiled, with a hint of sarcasm in the corners of his mouth. “I am Link.”

There was no mark of wonder or surprise on Link’s face when it was revealed to him that the Hylian Princess was in his forge. He simply continued prodding through his tools when Zelda knocked away the tongs. 

Zelda looked at the blade in her hand. It was thrumming with the energy of the blue fire, bursting with potential for destruction. 

“Why does a place like this with farmers and labourers need weapons of this strength,” Zelda said in wonder. “And the armour—“

There was a scoff from Link as he untied the scarf from his hair and shoved it into a pocket. When he turned to Zelda she could see the blue arrow point tattooed across his forehead, sinking down into the line of his nose. His brown eyes looked at her with steely patience. 

“How else do we kill the monsters when the soldiers don’t bother protecting borders,” he said. In Link’s deep, soft voice, it felt like a threat. 

Zelda withheld her words. The sword slipped back into the hilt, its glow extinguished. She placed the weapon back onto the counter.

“I want you to work for me,” Zelda said. “I want you to come with me to Hyrule Castle and create weapons for me and my knights.”

The glare that Link gave Zelda was so sour she felt the ‘no’ without needing him to say it. Most people, if proposed with the same offer, would have been weeping with gratitude.

Zelda gritted her teeth. “I will give you access to the laboratories, an entire workshop to yourself, materials straight from Goron City.”

When Link shook his head there was no pleasantness in his expression. 

Zelda rolled her eyes and barely restrained herself from hitting a counter as she walked out of the workshop. She shut the door behind herself and stood in the small garden, staring at the birds in the pines as she sucked in her lips to stop the snarl.

She could give up on trying to convince that blacksmith, in the same way she could give up on her plot to hunt down the Calamity in its weakened state and rely on the Divine Beasts and her sealing power to do the job when the Beast arrives. Her father tried to convince her to do so, assuring that they have complete faith in her power that had awakened so early in her youth to keep them safe. Or she could take the cursed destiny into her own fists and mould it into her own shape. 

Besides, if Zelda bent backwards to give in, Impa would be disappointed in her. Zelda laughed. She was not going to let the blacksmith shoulder off her offer. She knew she needed him, for some reason. 

Zelda charged back into the workshop, catching Link in the process of extinguishing the light inside the glass lanterns. For the first time, she saw a shocked expression on his face.

Zelda pointed a finger at him and said, “I’ll come back here in a week and I hope I’ll get a different answer, I’ll make it worth it.”


	2. Parting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief moment between Link and Ganon. Link would have been about 30 and Ganon 34, this is months before the Calamity was sealed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please look away from typos I’m drunk

Link kept his head tilted up to the tree canopies as he walked on the edge of the path, trying to spot the birds that were singing their summer trill. He was alone, even Fo - the obnoxious fairy - said that she has things to do in the Korok Forest. Link had no rush to be anywhere and didn’t use the master cycle, choosing just to wander on the grassy edge of the well-beaten path from Castle Town.

He couldn’t remember the last time Zelda wasn’t grabbing him by the arm and dragging him on an adventure that she called “just an errand”. So he decided to take his time getting to the Great Plateau for training. 

Link shrugged off the sleeves of his tunic, letting them hang around his waist, the sun warmed scabbard right against his back. 

Gravel scattered into the grass as Link heard hooves approach behind him. He stepped out of the way without looking back and continued to walk. But then he heard the voice calling the horse into a halt as the huge black and red stallion swerved into his view.

Link stepped back as the colossal horse stomped and turned on the spot, snorting into his face. He looked up at the rider, smiling up at the Gerudo King covered in dust with birch leaves in his hair. 

“Hello, traveller,” Ganon greeted him with an equal smile. “Where could you be headed all alone?” 

Link pointed up to where the walls of the Great Plateau were visible through the tree canopy. 

Ganon followed the gesture and said, “What a surprise, I’m headed in the same direction.” 

Link ignored the suggestion in Ganon’s tone and signed to him, ‘What are you doing out here?’

Ganon’s response was stumbled as he looked about himself, giving Link a moment to take note of how he hadn’t brought anything with himself to imply he was travelling for some time - or even intending to. His clothes were light, just a robe with an embroidered scarf for a belt, and loose trousers with sandals. Ganon was definitely not meaning to go anywhere after the sunset.

“I was patrolling,” Ganon said with badly disguised doubt that Link would believe him.

‘The King patrolling? On his own?’ Link challenged him again. 

Ganon sank into the saddle of the restless stallion and smiled. “Fine, don’t take my lies,” he said. “The weather had finally settled and I just needed… just needed to breathe.” 

Link frowned.

“It’s my grandmothers, pushing me to… to decisions.” Ganon shrugged. “Let’s go, I’ll take you to the plateau.”

Link grabbed the offered hand and went to climb the massive horse to reach the back of the saddle when Ganon stopped him.

“No,” he said. “Sit in front of me so I can see your hands when you want to speak.”

Link paused for a moment as he thought of his next move. He was still holding Ganon’s hand which pulled him as he grabbed the top of the saddle and pushed himself up, falling into the seat between Ganon’s thighs. He hoped that Ganon hadn’t noticed how red his ears were.

Forgetting about his sword, Link accidentally jabbed the pommel into Ganon’s chest. He quickly yanked off the belt holding the scabbard when he heard the wince and held his sword in front of himself, feeling like a fool. 

“I’ll hold onto you,” was all Ganon said before Link felt a hand around his waist and he was slammed back against Ganon’s chest when the stallion was kicked into a gallop.

Link breathlessly watched as the swamped birch forest blurred around him. The stallion moved with unrestrained power, every step so heavy it felt like it would break the ground. Ganon’s hold on Link never wavered, keeping him tight against himself. Link grabbed hold of Ganon’s forearm when the horse leaped over a collapsed drystone wall, slamming its entire weight down as it landed. 

Lakes shimmered between the trees as the forest opened up and the Plateau was visible ahead, the land around it clear of any structure. There was nothing but sprawling grasslands with wild flowers. Behind the colossal walls, the spine of the Gerudo Highlands rose. Just as Ganon had said, the eternal clouds of the storm hanging over the peaks had settled down for a little while.

They continued on around the foot of the Plateau, passing through a valley between its walls and a craggy hill. Link’s face lit up when he noticed the bunting of the stable that stood between the border of Hyrule Field and the entrance into Gerudo Domain. 

The stallion was drawn into a slow trot by Ganon who finally eased his grip on Link. “You don’t mind stopping here with me, right?” he asked Link who shook his head. 

There were many travellers milling around the campfires of the stable, sheltered by a hill from the wind blowing all the way from Tabantha, funnelled by the immense wall of the highlands. There were steps winding up through the stony outcrops of that hill with the timber railing decorated by bells and flags, leading people up toward the shrine hidden amongst the green. 

Ganon lowered Link down from the horse by holding onto his forearm, letting him gently hop to the ground. Link straightened his tunic on his shoulders, already feeling the chill of the waiting storm from the path into the Gerudo Domain. 

Ganon led his horse to the stable where the most of the Gerudo left their horses as they could not be led further into the canyon valleys where the paths wound into the rock, becoming nothing more than a slither of a track before entering a city hidden inside the mountains themselves to avoid the cruel winds of the storm. Link shuddered. 

“Are you cold?’

Link turned to Ganon, alone now. He smiled and shook his head. ‘Come sit with me,’ he said, ‘before we both have to go.’

Link led Ganon toward a fire pit with empty timber benches around it. Ganon sat right beside him, his thigh touching Link’s knee. The contact burned pleasantly, like the touch of sun-warmed sandstone. 

“Would you not go on further with me?” Ganon asked, with his chin in his hand. “I have some very pesky cousins that would really like to see you again. And maybe steal some of your weapons.” 

Link couldn’t help but grin; he missed Ganon’s family, he missed the hallways carved into the red sandstone lit by the gentle green glow of electricity. Once, while staying with the Gerudo, he played his lyre all through the night to drown out the sound of the storm which was especially vicious on that day. He was barely conscious in the morning and was in no state to leave, but to Link it had been worth it.

‘No,’ he said. ‘I can’t, I must commit to my duty.’

Ganon rolled his eyes. “You have been very diligent for someone Zelda used to call a ‘hollow headed fool’.”

Link bared his teeth slightly. Then, his face went blank as he remembered that he had been keeping something for this very occasion. 

Ganon watched with placid curiosity as Link fished through the pouches on his belt. His eyes went wide when the Hylian produced a ring, beaten from solid gold with a single malachite gem. 

“What’s this?” Ganon asked without taking his eyes off the ring.

“It’s for you,” Link said. “It’s a gift.” He took Ganon’s right hand and pressed the ring onto his index finger. 

“A gift?” Ganon muttered as he lifted his hand toward the firelight, admiring the gem. “How did you make it fit so well?”

Link felt very smug. “You don’t remember the rings you gave to me to make sure you didn’t lose them in moblin guts?”

Ganon barked a laugh; he never did ask for them back. “Is this to make up for the bracelet you gave to Zelda?” Ganon turned his hand, flexing his fingers. “Thank you,” he said and then turned around, leaning down toward Link.

A kiss was placed right on Link’s forehead. It startled him, but not as much as Ganon who froze entirely. Link could almost sense the panic from Ganon before he tore back from Link and turned away, a hand over his mouth.

Link nervously smiled. He twisted his hands together to avoid touching his forehead. “Ganon?” 

“I—I—“ Ganon dragged his hand down his face. “I’m sorry, I—I didn’t—“ He covered his mouth again and turned to Link. He looked nervous. “I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry.”

Link should have asked him to put a kiss a little lower, and then lower again. But he just shook his head. “It’s okay,” he whispered and took Ganon’s hand, nudging his fingers between the gaps of his. “It’s alright.”


End file.
